In the Beginning
by Night-Hunter2004
Summary: Warning: Violence, male rape, adult themes. CV:CoDHector's not been with the Master long but already he's having to make choices or have them made for him that he never really thought to make before.


**In the Beginning...**

The hallway was not dark, exactly. But every time Hector walked down this particular hall, he felt a darkening of spirit, somehow - a feeling of something that rubbed at the edges of his consciousness like badly fitting clothing. He shrugged, partly to relieve the tension, and partly to shift the set of his shoulders, still sore from the last bout in the practice ring. Sometimes he could almost envy the peasants the simplicity of their lives...

"Off to see the Master, Hector?" The gentle, almost mocking inflection made Hector frown.

"My presence was requested, yes." He took an involuntary step to the right as a man's head leaned out from the doorway to his left. The long red hair was loosely tied together at the ends, around what looked at first glance to be a bone. _A...no, _Hector reasoned quickly. _It couldn't be..._The Master was quite clear on what he permitted. Even Isaac, his right hand man, wouldn't flaunt it.

"Dear boy, you don't spend nearly enough time getting to know us better. I assure you, the Master is quite good to those who work loyally for him - and you certainly are the bright star in the heavens right now." The lithe, well-formed man topped Hector by half a head as he moved to stand in the doorway, leaning on one arm against the wall. "You know, I think the world of you - your talent, your ...well...you," his eyes roamed Hector from head to foot as he said it.

"I'm very appreciative of your help, Isaac - you know that. I just find this place a trifle - unsettling - as yet. I'm sure I will get over it eventually. It doesn't seem to bother you any..." he paused, his fine silver hair sliding just over one shoulder as he tilted his head. "Did it ever bother you the way it does me?"

Isaac leaned his back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest in what, Hector had come to realize, indicated he was not entirely comfortable with how close the talk had come to his own secrets. "No - not the way you are. I was more adventurous, I think - or perhaps you would say reckless. I knew what I wanted - I was prepared to fight for it, and wrest all the secrets from this place. The Master made that unnecessary - a gift of understanding that probably saved my life, since fighting him would have been - futile."

"He can be killed, though," Hector said, deep in thought. "So I've heard." Issac's laugh was brittle.

"Indeed he can - or he would hardly need us to forge the devils to protect and defend this place, would he? But never doubt he is Master for a reason. He is - quite powerful in ways we can hardly imagine."

Hector smiled a bit, which made him look even younger than his 20 years, shaking his head. "I find it hard to believe he could be harmed by anything more than an army of demons - but then, I have known him - and you - only a year. "

Isaac looked appraisingly at the young man before him, and once again felt the same urge that prompted him to draw the Master's attention to Hector the first time he came near the castle. Although less than 5 years separated their ages, Isaac was old beyond his years, while Hector's innocence and naiveté seemed to shine from him like a candle through crystal. Such beauty, too - slim, well-formed, and pale like a rose in moonlight. Ah, the rose was appropriate, too - Hector could indeed draw blood if he was handled wrong. Isaac had stopped meeting him on the practice floor, as his inappropriate comments or suggestions often provoked a painful response.

"You should get to know me better," Isaac told him after a moment, although he had enjoyed Hector's discomfort during the silence. "I can help you advance faster, and further. Besides, I think if you'd unbend a little, you would truly enjoy what this place has to offer."

"We've been over it again and again," Hector said, setting his jaw to master his anger. "While I appreciate your help and your work, I do not wish to share your bed, or your other - pastimes."

Isaac sighed, turning away with a dismissing wave of his hand, his voice coming back over his shoulder. "Well, think about it, anyway. After all - you won't remain pure and good and all that living here - sooner or later, it will tarnish your shine."

"I doubt it," Hector muttered as he continued his walk down the hallway, now in a worse mood than ever. "If the mind is the seat of reason, and one is trained to use it, discipline it, then one controls what one is affected by..." He paused outside the door at the end of the hallway, and squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath. As he reached to knock on the door, it opened ponderously before him, leaving his hand hanging in the air for just a second before he shook his head and lowered it, walking through the portal. Ahead of him, in the dimness of a few candle flames, a voice rolled out to meet him.

"Good evening, Hector. Good of you to join me."

"A good evening to you, Master," he replied automatically, making himself move forward although every fiber in his being seemed to feel the urge to flee. "I received your summons, I hope I have done nothing to displease you..."

The throne was as black as the curtains behind it, but shone softly with a lambent green that seemed to cling like mist to it alone. The Master lounged there, as if it were some country bench. But then, the lord of the undead had never needed to stand on dignity like mere mortals. Beside him, two young women sat below the throne, on the steps. One was eating grapes he was feeding to her - a brunette with milky skin and wide, dark eyes. The other lay as if she were tired, or perhaps ill - one hand over her stomach, the other over her eyes. She was blonde, Hector noticed, with tanned arms and neck and shoulders - a peasant girl, perhaps from the village. He pulled his eyes from the women and looked at the Master, who had waited patiently, seeing an amused smile on his face.

"Quite the contrary, Hector. I have called you here to reward you." He made a shooing motion with his hand, and the brunette rose, helping her blonde companion to her feet. They shuffled out of sight, and Dracula indicated the space the brunette had vacated. "Come, sit - we have much to discuss, you and I."

Hector sat gingerly on the stone step, realizing it meant he had to look up at the Master, and that put him at quite a disadvantage. He stilled a shudder as he felt the Master's hand on his hair, stroking it gently as if petting a kitten. "Isaac is right," Dracula said at last. "I can see why he wishes to claim you." His hand tightened on Hector's shoulder as the young man began to protest. "but it suits my needs that you be free to make your own decisions - Isaac is useful to me, and a loyal tool, but he can be difficult. Perhaps having you about, but free to choose, will help him behave properly."

Hector looked up, the anger in his eyes plain to the Master, who merely smiled.

"I have heard good things of your work. The engineers say your latest creations are more stable and easier to work with. The plant-creatures in the wine cellar have proven their ability to work as you said they would. And I know you are studying hard, learning and growing. I ask nothing more of you for now than to continue."

"What shall I do about Isaac?" Hector said, softly as if to himself. His Master heard, and answered.

"Isaac is useful to me. He is not a bad person in his own way, but he is full of lust for life and all it offers. More, he seems to be obsessed with innocence - particularly yours. I do not say befriend him, although you certainly may. But feelings for others must be your own choice. To force you would be to blunt those qualities I need you to use in my behalf. I do tell you to be careful of him. He will find a way to have what he wishes, and I would be most displeased if you killed him."

Hector glanced up, and found himself falling into the deep, dark pools of his Master's eyes, but all he said was: "I understand."

Hector awoke feeling strange, lightheaded and stiff. His body immediately told him he was not in his bed, but on the floor - the cold stone floor. Which meant he was not in his room, nor in Isaac's for that matter. The last room he'd been in without rugs had been the Master's throne room... Glancing up, and seeing the now-empty throne, he groaned softly, and rolled over, forcing himself to sit up. "What the hell..."

Across the floor between him and the door, the young blonde woman he had seen earlier lay sprawled in an abandoned tangle of limbs and long, golden hair. Even her tan skin looked pale, and her eyes, still open, were glazed with a look of intense fear. Hector pushed himself to his feet, and took a step her direction, but even as he did, he could see it was far too late to do anything for her. Swaying a little, Hector turned, looking at the rest of the room.

Two naked men lay sprawled across one another, blood taking up the floor beneath them. With morbid fascination, Hector turned one over with his foot, and found both men connected by the blades they had killed one another with. Shaking his head gently, and frowning in confusion, he took a step back and nearly tripped over the body of the brunette girl he had seen with the Master. She, too, was naked and even in death she was beautiful enough to cause a stir in Hector's body. Quickly, guiltily, he pushed the thoughts away, disciplining himself to regard her clinically.

Whatever had killed this one, she had gone peacefully, if the look in her eyes was any indication. One might say blissfully. He squatted down next to her, checking to make sure, but she was definitely dead. As he rose up, he realized he, too, was naked, and dirty. As he looked, he was stunned to find blood all over him, although there was not a wound on his person.

"Well, Hector has been a **busy** boy," Isaac paused in the doorway. "You and the Master must have had some party!"

"I - don't know," Hector said, hating how lame it sounded. "I don't remember anything like this..."

Isaac's smile was a bit malicious. "Oh, truly? Well, the Master can have that affect on people - you will get used to it in time. You'll also be able to remember more." He strode across the room, dismissing the blonde's body with a sniff of disdain, and ignoring the males, but came up next to Hector and the body of the brunette.

"She's dead," Hector said unnecessarily. "They all are."

Isaac's eyes went from Hector's body to the girl, and back, lingering, almost caressing. Hector felt the eyes, and blushed slightly, turning away. "I don't know what happened. Do you?"

"I can guess," Isaac said, licking his lips surreptitiously. "I would say the Master wanted you to enjoy the festivities, and you wouldn't - or couldn't do it without his help. He has that ability. Did you kill the girl?"

"No - I would never...I...don't think..." Hector looked very fragile at that moment, as he turned and looked down at the brunette. "She was...Master was feeding her when I came in...grapes..."

"Ah, well, then I'd say Master took her life - since she seems to have enjoyed it. Death by rape doesn't leave such a pleasant expression," he glanced over his shoulder at the blonde. "More like her."

Hector had turned pale at the mention of rape, and now looked again at the blonde, his hands clenched. Isaac smiled to himself, but he put an arm around Hector to steady him. "Let's get you back to your room and cleaned up."

"What about...this?" Hector glanced around again. Four people had died here - and he didn't remember any of it. What if he had done it?

"Leave it - the Master has servants to clean that up." He drew the younger man toward the door. In the doorway, Hector stopped and turned again.

"Do you... Isaac, do you think I..."

"I think you had nothing really to do with it. The Master will have his little games. I don't doubt that you got a taste of the ladies - or gents or both - before they died, but you are clean of their deaths."

"I hope so," he whispered, his head bowed so that the fine silver hair hid his face. "Oh God, I hope so..."

2

The soft touch of feathers against his face awakened Hector from a paralyzing nightmare. He had been dreaming that he was watching the Master as he brought in the two men, men who had been hunting for the lost women, handed them the blades and enspelled each to think of the other as an enemy. He watched the Master brutally tease, torture and kill the blonde girl. He saw himself fornicate with the brunette, while the master drained her blood, timing her death with his loyal servant's climax. He struggled up out of the dreams at the touch, stifling a scream with both hands.

A small serpent sat on the pillow beside him - one with feathered wings like a bird. It nuzzled him and swept a wing over his face again, to get his attention. Hector nodded, lowering his hands, although it took a bit longer to stop shaking. When it had his attention, the creature hopped off the bed and slithered, wings tucked along its back, toward the workroom. Hector grabbed up a robe and followed. There was a note waiting, from the Master, requesting specific items that needed to be completed quickly. Apparently, there was trouble coming. With a sigh, Hector began making sketches that would approximate the note's request, for further refinement.

Isaac came into the room just after sundown. He had brought food from the kitchen, which Hector accepted with thanks. He mentioned the nightmares to his fellow demon forger, just in passing. Work and time had dulled the effect. Isaac seemed sympathetic.

"It's the place here," Isaac told him seriously. "It's said it draws out the wicked in people, makes them do things. It's why the peasants don't come here - unless they're drawn to it."

"That's preposterous," Hector said, sitting back from his meal. At least no one in the Master's employ was expected to starve, and the food was excellent. "Places don't do things like that - it's just a place."

"You're not thinking clearly," Isaac told him, snaring a bit of untouched bread. "If this place was not a repository for power, would we be able to do what we do? Could you do it somewhere else?"

Hector thought about that for a moment. "I suppose it's possible. I want to think it's more the power of someone - but someone powerful could leave in imprint on a place. Who had this one before the Master came here?"

"I think he's always been here," Isaac said, frowning slightly. "The castle has had a bad name in folk history back many generations, but always the same thing."

"Peasant superstition mostly," Hector opined. "I don't doubt there was something unsettling about this place, but they make it more than it is. Gophers into gargoyles, if you will."

Isaac laughed. "You have a way about you," he said, pouring himself a glass of ale from the pitcher. "I do hope you'll get over this queasiness about what the Master does. He's the Master - he is not human like us, and he does not follow the same laws."

"Yes, but we do - I mean, you and I and some of the others. We're not animals, we're men."

Isaac lifted his glass, his voice only slightly sarcastic. "And what are men, if not glorified animals? Animals that can think - can reason - can create. I for one don't mind being an animal - there are needs that the animal in me can meet, just as there are needs that the rational man in me can meet."

Hector shook his head sadly. "I think we are meant to rise above our base natures, to believe in the rule of order, goodness and reason. If not for that, we would be just like wolves."

"Um, I suppose I'll give you that, Hector." Isaac rose, stretching languidly. "But think about this: A philosopher once said that embracing your shadow is the only way to become whole. What is our shadow but our animal nature? To deny it gives it power over you - to indulge it, tame it, means you control it, and you have the power."

Hector looked up and smiled a bit uncertainly. "I will think about it," he said softly.

"That's all I ask. Peaceful dreams this night." The door closed softly behind him.

The difference in his dreams this night eluded him at first. He saw the same thing again, the Master destroying the humans. But this time, he was not alone. Isaac was with him, his voice soft, explaining things in a new way. _The blonde girl, a mere peasant - and she had insulted the Master, refused to apologize, and then spat at him. She paid for it, indeed - but she had asked for it herself. Had she been respectful, she would have gotten as the other did._

_The men? Brutes crashing into the forest, into the castle, as if they had any right to demand anything of the Master! Didn't he keep their villages free of looting and war? Didn't he even send money to the villages for their upkeep and to help the poor? Why did these fools think they could undo all that by their simple greed, anger, lust?_

_The brunette, now, she was a treasure. Look at her, the way your hand fits the curve of her breast. Feel the heat of her surrounding your most private part, shared now, at the moment of her death, the grace of your passion. Let yourself feel the bliss in her eyes, under your hands, around your body as she finds total and final fulfillment in your arms..._

Hector moaned, thrashing out as if to fight off the dream. Warm arms held him close. "Not so hard, Hector. Relax, and let go. You are well, and safe, and that is what matters..." He fell back to an uneasy sleep, moaning again as he felt hands upon his body, caressing him, urging him to respond.

Sharp pain awoke him, clear-headed in an instant from the web of confused and tangled dreams; and he cried out before he could stop it.

"So, you are awake now," Isaac's voice was mellow, amused, beind him. "Time to awaken to the joy I have been awaiting for a long time..."

Hector tried to turn, to look back, but his hands were manacled tight to the bed, and his back legs spread around the man kneeling behind him. The heat of Issac's body was incredible, and distracting. He felt the bed shift slightly, as Issac moved forward, and this time bit his lip to keep from screaming aloud as Isaac took him. And took him, again and again. Despite the repeated violation, Hector began to feel things, notice things again - distancing himself from his body to use other senses to distract him.

Isaac was beyond control. He had wanted for so long, and now that the opportunity presented itself, he was unable to control himself. His passion was nearly self-destructive in its brutal intensity, but the red-haired devil forger seemed unaware of it. He kept up the assault, using teeth and fingernails as well, until Hector was nearly faint with loss of blood and pain. Suddenly, he rammed in harder than before, screaming out in his passion, his hot seed pulsing into the bruised and torn flesh like scalding milk. Three times it poured from him, and then he seemed to collapse, falling partly across Hector's motionless body as his senses scattered.

Hector came back to consciousness with more than just a physical aching to remind him of his ordeal. The violation of his spirit was worse. He tried to rise, to find the manacles gone, the bed a mess, and his body cramping and hurting with every movement. Forcing himself to ignore the pain, he went to the cupboard, and pulled out a healing potion that he kept on hand for emergencies. He drank it down, and dropped to his knees on the floor, his forehead touching the woven carpet, praying it would work quickly. It did.

Very soon, Hector was washing off the last residue of the night's ordeal. His body aches were tolerable. The emptiness in his gut left by the violation seemed to dull down. But his mental clarity was fine, and he was certain of one thing. One day, Isaac would die for this.

Shaking the damp hair back from his face, he nodded as he moved toward his workroom. "I am a man, not an animal," he swore softly to the open and listening air. "And nothing – nothing – you do or say will change that. My destiny is my own to choose. And I have chosen." The door closed with finality too soon to hear the sound of gentle laughter coming from the empty room.


End file.
